


Perfect Tea-Time

by spacesquidlings



Series: Cherished Seconds and Passing Kisses [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:14:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23144509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacesquidlings/pseuds/spacesquidlings
Summary: Professor Byleth invites Dimitri to join her for tea, an invitation he could never say no to
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Series: Cherished Seconds and Passing Kisses [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1647799
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25





	Perfect Tea-Time

Dimitri had never had a favourite part of the day before. Had never spent much time dwelling on the watery sunlight that seeped through his window in the early mornings, or the cool morning air against his face as he made his way to the training ring before classes.  
He enjoyed his training sessions, and he looked forward to the long, quiet rides he would sometimes take in the late afternoon when he’d finished his studies for the day, but he’d never been able to pinpoint a point in his day or his week that was without question his favourite.  
A few spare moments that he could always look forward to no matter how dark the day got, no matter what shadows in his mind tried to drag him into their depths.  
But ever since the professor had arrived, he’d found a part of the day he did enjoy, always, without question.  
The professor waved at him, a small smile dancing across their face.  
That was new, too, the professor’s smile, and he’d found he looked forward to seeing that every day, too.  
She folded her hands over her pleated skirt, her dark blue eyes bright. “I pulled my tea set out and was wondering if you wanted to have tea with me today?”  
He nodded, biting down on the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood to fight against the heat creeping into his face. To stop himself from smiling more than he should for such a request.  
She always came up to him the same way, poking her head into the knight’s hall or the training arena, a smile more mesmerizing than the blinding light of the sun always on her face whenever her gaze fell on him.  
Or maybe he was just imagining it; the professor smiled at everyone that way, surely he wasn’t that special.  
She always asked the same way, the hint of a question in her tone, the way her brows drew together. As if she wasn’t sure if he’d say yes.  
As if he’d ever say no to her,  
He followed the professor, her cape swishing behind her as she walked. “I found a little garden to set it up in this time, how does that sound?” She asked, her brows high as she turned back to him.  
He felt his chest squeeze as she tilted her head up, just barely, to meet his gaze, and he again felt warmth blooming in his cheeks.  
He cleared his throat, nodding. “That sounds wonderful.”  
Every tea time with her was wonderful, he didn’t much care where it was, as long as she was there too.  
She led him to a small, quiet corner of the monastery, where a few slender tables and chairs had been set up around a blooming garden of flowers in shades of crimson and gold and deepest indigo.  
One of the tables had the professor’s tea set already set up, a small tray piled high with sandwiches and sweets next to the steaming tea pot.  
She gestured to one of the seats, taking the remaining chair for herself.  
He smelled the tea she’d chosen before he’d even sat down, the sweet, apple-like fragrance of the chamomile curling towards him on the slight breeze that curled through the air.  
“Ah, this one’s my favourite,” he said, taking a seat as she offered him a cup filled near to the brim with the warm, golden liquid.  
Her expression softened as he took the cup, and he felt his chest ache, just a little, although he couldn’t quite understand why.  
Warmth seeped from the delicate porcelain of the cup and into his hands as he took a careful sip, the professor pouring herself a cup.  
He set his own cup down as carefully as he could, moving slowly in case he slammed it down too fast, in case it shattered beneath his hands.  
Although he hadn’t, not yet. At least not whenever he shared a pot of tea with the professor. He always felt a little more calm, a little bit more sure, more in control, of his own strength as he listened to her talk, as her voice wrapped around him like an embrace.  
She folded her hands in front of her, drawing him from his thoughts.  
“Dimitri,” she said, her tone so solemn he could feel the heat drain from his face.  
Had he done something wrong? Had he hurt someone? Had he failed a test?  
But her serious expression didn’t last longer than a few seconds before a wide grin cracked across her face and she told him one of the worst jokes he’d probably ever heard.  
Dimitri covered his face with both hands to stop himself from exploding with laughter, all the tension spilling from his body as his shoulders shook.  
He snorted, and then the professor was covering her own face, snickering into her hands as she pressed her forehead against the table.  
“Professor,” he gasped, wiping a stray tear of laughter from the corner of his eye. “That was incredible.”  
“Thank you,” she said, grinning as she slowly regained control of herself. “I thought you would like it.”  
They fell into each new conversation easily afterwards, and Dimitri couldn’t help but feel like it was all some magnificent dream.  
The professor, quick to bring up the last few cooking disasters she’d watched in the kitchens the last few nights; how many dishes had been accidentally set aflame.  
Although she would never name anyone in particular.  
Telling him about her favourite books in the library, asking him about his day, his dreams, whether he’d given piggy-back rides to all the children in the marketplace yesterday because she said she’d seen them lining up around him in the middle of the square.  
He would tell her about the long rides he would sometimes take, the untrodden paths he liked to follow, disappearing into the countryside beyond the monastery walls, if only for a few hours. He told her how his shoulders did ache a little from hoisting all of the children into the air the day before. Told her about some of his dreams, about himself, menial things like his favourite weapons and his favourite jokes and misadventures with his friends when they were younger.  
Yet they didn’t feel menial, not when he talked to her. Not as she listened and nodded, her cheeks a soft, rosy pink he hadn’t realized he loved until now.  
He felt like he could tell her anything; like he wanted to tell her everything.  
Although that was surely not the wisest decision.  
Dimitri sipped from his tea, savouring the warmth that spread through him. Surely from the fragrant tea, the one he would sometimes drink before bed. And yet he felt warm for an entirely different reason, too, heat rushing into his face when the professor told him how much she appreciated him. How she was always glad to have him beside her in the battlefield.  
He took a longer sip than necessary, trying and failing to school his expression into modest appreciation, and not the blushing mess he surely was.  
But she didn’t seem to notice, smiling up at him with eyes that reminded him of a midnight sky, her face that same soft pink as he stammered into his cup.  
He didn’t quite understand why such a statement made him feel so flustered, certain she’d said something similar before.  
Hadn’t she?  
Hadn’t she told him she appreciated him before? That he was a good ally?  
Dimitri plucked a small sandwich as he tried to compose his thoughts.  
‘I’m always glad to have you next to me on the battlefield, Dimitri.’  
He felt his heart skip a beat, his pulse beating out an erratic rhythm even as the conversation shifted, and it took him a long, long while to cast away the heat in his face.  
The rest of the afternoon passed by more quickly than he ever wanted it to.  
He hardly noticed as the professor poured him new cups of tea, any anxiety he had about cradling the delicate porcelain nearly disappearing entirely whenever she cracked another joke, or he got to hear her high, clear laughter ringing out through the garden.  
This.  
This was his favourite part of the day. The shining star that always seemed to banish his shadows.  
He wanted to dig his heels into time, to slow it down, so he could spend more precious moments with his professor. Seeing her smile. Listening to her talk. Feeling warm from the tea and her words and the pure happiness that always bloomed in his chest around her.  
But time indeed marched on, and far too soon for his liking the snacks were all gone and the teapot had long since gone cold.  
He knew he needed to go; he still had more training to do before the day was done, still had more drills to run through, still had to polish his sword and his lance before the day was through.  
And yet he found himself absolutely loath to leave, not wanting it to end. Not yet. Not when his professor was still smiling like that, so bright and mesmerizing it made his heart ache.  
But surely she had work to get to as well. Lesson plans to draw up, assignments to grade, training to be had.  
He could not be so selfish as to steal away all her time, no matter how much his chest hurt at the thought of leaving.  
He nodded, hoping the smile he gave the professor was passable. Nowhere near as wonderful as hers, and yet he hoped it might make her even a fraction as happy as she always seemed to make him.  
“Thank you, professor,” he said, slowly rising from his seat. “We’ll have to do this again.”  
She grinned. “Of course, Dimitri. I love talking with you like this.”  
There it was again, that ache in his chest, that stutter in his heart that threw off the rhythm of his pulse.  
He nodded again, turning away before she could see the heat that was exploding across his face.  
He felt like he was burning alive as he quickly made his way through the monastery, heading towards the training grounds to where he’d abandoned his lance and his training.  
He passed by the fishing pond, hoping the breeze skirting across the surface of the water would help cool him. But it was in vain, and he found himself just as hot as he’d been before. Except now he was ducking around the stairs as quickly as he could as he noticed Sylvain making his way down the dormitory stairs.  
Dimitri did not want Sylvain to see him right now, not while his heart still wasn’t beating right, not while his face was still so flushed.  
It felt like ages until he reached the training grounds, some of the tension falling away from him as he wrapped his hands around his lance. His forced himself to run through as many training maneuvers as he could think of, moving from basic to complex.  
He’d hoped it would help him calm down; hoped it would help him even out the erratic beat of his heart, clear his mind so he could focus on his training, on the month’s mission.  
And yet he found that his mind still spun as he slashed at one of the training dummies, tearing it into pieces with one blow. He still thought of the professor’s smile, of the jokes she’d told him, how he wished he hadn’t left so soon. How he wished she’d come with him, just so he could hear her voice for a little longer. So he could stand by her for a few moments more.  
He paused, rubbing at his temples, images flashing behind his eyes as he sighed into the giant, empty room.  
What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he focus?!  
Perhaps you’re in love.  
The thought came out of nowhere, like a slap to the face, and yet the professor’s smiling face flashed in his mind’s eye at the same moment, his heart skipping a beat as if in confirmation.  
He felt his stomach drop as his grip tightened around the lance, the realization like being shot with a million piercing arrows.  
Oh no.  
And yet it made him warm, too. The gentle realization that bloomed in his heart, spreading a soft kind of happiness through his entire body, like rays of sunlight scattering across fresh, sparkling layers of snow.  
That the professor made him so, very happy.   
That he was in love.


End file.
